A/N: Hello everyone! So, who wants to kill me for taking so long to update? Anyways, pitchforks down because I have a brand new chapter for you… and you'll quite possibly need them at the end of the chapter and we don't want you to have to use them when they're not all nice and shiny, right? Well, ok, you at the back with the rust on, I guess that doesn't apply to you. But follow the example of everyone else. Unless you brought enough rusty pitchforks for everyone? No? Well, you know the rules. No maiming until after the chapter.

And, in case you haven't noticed yet, I'm in a VERY weird mood. But anyway, I've kept you waiting long enough onto the chapter!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing that you recognise.

WARNINGS: Slash. And not nice, friendly Wolf/Alex either. :( Also, possible dub-con, depending on how you look at it.

-o-O-o-

Having a class with David was interesting. Just by being there, the kid changed the dynamic of the class. He didn't even think the students were aware of it, but he could see it as plain as day. Every word or action was preceded with a glance towards David. Most almost worshiped him, but there were a few who hated him. Even that didn't lessen his influence over them, though. They were always trying to irritate him – failing utterly – and in so doing were paying more attention to him than all the rest combined.

He was starting to doubt that they would listen to him at all, had he not removed David from the class at the beginning. As it was, the class was slowly returning to his control, in part due to David's rapt attention (no doubt he was fearful of being chucked out again) but mainly because of his fear-the-deadly-assassin persona. Or so he told himself.

Still, he was grateful when it was over.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised when David turned up in his classroom half an hour after class let out. He'd changed from the clothes he'd been wearing all day and wiped his face. He'd forgotten to comb his hair, though. It was still on end from hours of scrubbing his hands through it.

Not looking in a mirror meant that David obviously wasn't here with a definitive goal. He wasn't trying to impress Alex. Instead he wanted… well, Alex wasn't exactly sure yet.

"Mr Petrov," said Alex, looking up from the work in front of him.

"Hi, sir," said David with a cheeky grin. "Did you miss me?"

"My heart was bleeding I assure you," said Alex dryly. "Does this visit have a point?"

David threw himself into a chair and casually put his feet up on the desk in front of him. Alex raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

"So how did I do today?" asked the teen.

"Pretty well, considering," allowed Alex. "I mean, you're way behind on weapons theory, but on the unarmed combat you seemed to be doing ok. Have you borrowed Amy's notes, yet?"

"Borrowed them this morning," said David carelessly. "Copied most of them in class."

"Which class?" asked Alex with a frown.

"German," said the boy with a faint scowl. Not a languages fan, then.

"For the next three days you'll only speak in German, the only exception being a direct reply to a teacher in one of your morning lessons."

"But sir-!"

"That's not German," said Alex, flatly.

"Sorry, sir" muttered David sullenly, finally in the correct language.

"Good," said Alex. "Now, what did you make of the subjects?"

"Actually," said David, pulling out a sheaf of notes. "I was hoping you could explain this to me a little more…"

-o-O-o-

David, it turned out, was a demanding pupil. Normally, a teacher would be ecstatic to have such an enthusiastic charge, but when Alex had been planning on going back to his room and napping for a few hours before another midnight mission, he was decidedly unimpressed with having his brain extensively picked for four hours.

He would admit a small amount of pride when David managed to flawlessly dissect, assess and modify an infamous assassination attempt from the nineteen-eighties. With David's modifications, there was a high chance that the target would have been terminated.

"Look," he finally said. "It's late. I know you have a lot to catch up on, but you can't stay here all night. For a start, I need sleep too!"

David blushed slightly.

"Go and get dinner – tell the cook I kept you late; she'll give you something – then go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

-o-O-o-

As tempted as Alex was by the large, luxurious bed Markovic had provided, he couldn't afford to waste time sleeping. He knew he could spend up to two more nights without sleep before it would start to seriously affect his abilities, and even then he could survive on catnaps for another week. It was pointless to sleep tonight, no matter how much he would feel the lack of it tomorrow.

And so he once more found himself sneaking towards Markovic's office.

Tonight, he could hear faint snores coming from a door on the far side of the room, and realised that it must be Markovic's bedroom. It was probably a good thing that the man had been out wondering the halls last night, then, even if he had eventually caught Matt and Alex. Being caught together here would have been infinitely more condemning.

He ignored the computer. His last trip had been enough to prove to him that he would have to get his hands on the password, which would no doubt involve a hell of a lot of cunning on his part. As it was, he strode quickly passed the desk and over to a filling cabinet in the far corner of the room.

Here, he had more luck. The lock was easy to pick and, though the files were written in code, Alex was sure he could break it, given time.

He chose a couple of the files, ones that had traces of dust and signs of neglect, and slipped them under his top, relying on the waistband of his trousers to keep them in place.

He was turning to leave when he was interrupted.

"Thanatos?" whispered the sleepy, but calm, voice of Markovic from the far side of the room.

Alex turned, his face going blank to hide his irritation with himself. How could he not have noticed the man entering the room?

"I must be dreaming," said the man with a small laugh. "Although, admittedly you're usually wearing less clothing."

Alex didn't respond for a moment, before slinking closer to the man.

"Luka," he breathed against the man's cheek. "Luka, please, take me to bed."

If he wanted Markovic to carry on believing this was a dream, if he wanted him to not realise exactly why he had been in the office, he'd have to play along.

The man groaned with want and tugged Alex towards the still-open door.

In the bedroom, Alex got a brief impression of dark crimson and chocolate brown before he was straddling Markovic on the edge of a rumpled king-sized bed.

The man underneath him groaned and thrust up against Alex's thigh, which Alex ignored with difficulty, then pulled the younger man down for a kiss.

Alex responded on automatic, his tongue swirling expertly to keep Markovic happy and distracted. His hands roamed over Markovic's back, before finding a pressure point on the back of his neck.

Within three seconds, the man was once again unconscious.

Alex manoeuvred him back into bed; hopefully, Markovic would assume that it had all been a dream when he woke up, although Alex had to admit that the thought of Markovic dreaming about him, apparently regularly, made him feel a little nauseous. Sometimes, he really hated his job.

Quickly, he checked that the files were still under his shirt and headed back to his own rooms.

He really wanted a shower right now, and a toothbrush. He needed that toothbrush.

-o-O-o-

A/N: Reviews are the body armour that will keep me safe from pitchforks long enough for me to update!